


Strange Things Did Happen Here

by gracethescribbler



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Tragedy, CT-7567 | Rex Needs a Hug, Celebrations, Flashbacks, Funerals, Gen, Grief/Mourning, I let Rex cry, Introspection, Malachor, Post-Battle of Endor (Star Wars), Post-Mission to Malachor (Star Wars), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slight Suicidality, Vader is so tragic, as a result of survivor's guilt, he misses his friends okay, he needed it, just a lot of rex feels, nothing intense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:34:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27368872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracethescribbler/pseuds/gracethescribbler
Summary: Rex learns what happened to Anakin Skywalker when he goes with Ahsoka to Malachor, which he never prepared for and never wanted to know.He couldn’t sleep for weeks.First it was because of the guilt, and then after that it was because of the nightmares, and the exhaustion. During the day he could almost forget about it - he had responsibilities, and he threw himself into them hard, so that he didn’t have to see Kanan or Ezra or any of the Ghost Crew, so that he didn’t have to even talk to his brothers, who would ask questions that he wouldn’t be able to refuse them the answers to.He wondered if he could have saved her.He wondered if he hadn’t gone with her, if she would have come back or if it wouldn’t have mattered.He wondered if it would have been better if he’d stayed, too.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, CT-7567 | Rex & Ahsoka Tano, CT-7567 | Rex & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & CT-7567 | Rex
Comments: 11
Kudos: 105





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Some of you know that I made a post on Tumblr a little while ago about how there weren't enough fanfics about how Rex feels about Vader/Anakin's Fall and how I wanted to write a bunch of them. This was a suggestion from a user on there in the comments, @authortobenamedlater, of the classic idea "what if Rex went to Malachor with Ahsoka?" I had some trouble making this unique and it's probably a rambling mess still because it basically turned into "Rex being sad about how everyone he knows has died"
> 
> Rex and Obi-Wan are tied for the most tragic character in all of Star Wars, for me, and I stand by that. If anyone wants me to do a second chapter to make the ending a little happier (including visiting some graves and Ahsoka coming back) please do let me know, I might have to.

He couldn’t sleep for weeks.

First it was because of the guilt, and then after that it was because of the nightmares, and the exhaustion. During the day he could almost forget about it - he had responsibilities, and he threw himself into them hard, so that he didn’t have to see Kanan or Ezra or any of the Ghost Crew, so that he didn’t have to even talk to his brothers, who would ask questions that he wouldn’t be able to refuse them the answers to.

He wondered if he could have saved her.

He wondered if he hadn’t gone with her, if she would have come back or if it wouldn’t have mattered.

He wondered if it would have been better if he’d stayed, too.

…

_ The Sith temple was lit up at the summit, red and purple and sparking with lightning that reminded Rex of old battles, a long time ago. They left Kanan and Maul behind, fighting, which felt wrong, but Ahsoka said they had no choice. _

_ “He’ll be fine,” she said, and Rex believed her. _

_ He’d insisted on coming along, and had almost had to beg Ahsoka to let him, in fact, but now he understood her hesitance. He felt out of his depth, sick, and it was only adrenaline and anger that really kept him from giving up altogether. Ahsoka was sprinting to the summit of the temple and it was all he could do to keep up with her, but she didn’t slow down for him. _

_ Something was truly wrong, and that was how he knew. _

_ Just as they reached the top of the stairs, she paused for only a moment and turned to him. “I’m sorry,” she told him. “I’m afraid- There are things I haven’t told you, Rex.” _

_ “It’s okay,” he said. “Later.” _

_ She seemed unsure, then nodded and darted the rest of the way up the stairs, with Rex struggling to keep pace a few strides behind her. _

_ At the top of the stairs, an eerie tableau stretched out ahead of them: the walls of the temple had a break in them, so that the tip of the pyramid seemed to float several feet above the ground, allowing entrance to a huge chamber that was bathed in red light. In the middle of it stood an obelisk, sparking with purple energy, and directly between the obelisk and Rex and Ahsoka, stood a dark cloaked, helmeted figure, pointing a red lightsaber at Ezra, who was lying on the floor. “Perhaps I was wrong,” the figure said, in a voice that was terrifyingly low. _

_ Ahsoka ran straight into the chamber without pause, Rex still right behind her. She came to a stop a few yards from the figure, who turned slowly to face them. It was a Sith, and although Rex had only heard about him from Ahsoka, as soon as he saw the glaring visor, the mechanical face, and the brutish posture, he knew. This was Darth Vader. _

_ “It wouldn’t be the first time,” Ahsoka said, boldly, and turned off her sabers. _

_ Vader switched off his. _

_ It was a long, still moment in which Ezra scooted back from the confrontation and Rex hesitantly lowered one of his blasters, following Ahsoka’s lead, although he wasn’t sure why she didn’t seem ready to fight just yet. Perhaps they were waiting for Ezra to be safer. Perhaps she wanted to try diplomacy. Rex couldn’t be sure, but he would follow her lead. _

_ “It was foretold that you would come here,” said Vader, slowly, looking between Ahsoka and Rex. “Our long-awaited meeting has come at last, and you have brought another traitor.” _

_ Rex inclined his head, couldn’t help but smile a little. It still struck him as ironic that people called  _ them  _ the traitors. _

_ "I'm glad you had something to look forward to, then," Ahsoka said, fiercely, tilting her chin up slightly. _

_ "We do not have to fight," Vader said. He was looking at both of them, which was strange. "The Emperor will show you mercy, if you tell me where the rest of the Jedi are." _

_ "There are no more Jedi," Ahsoka retorted, a blatant lie. "You've made sure of that." _

_ "Is that so?" Vader looked at them a moment, then turned abruptly back towards Ezra, his saber igniting in a loud, crackling hum. Rex jolted forward, instinctively, stopped only by Ahsoka's hand on his chest and a sudden, deeply apologetic look. He wasn't sure what she was thinking. _

_ "I thought I knew who you were," Ahsoka said, then, turning back toward Vader. _

_ The Sith stilled and looked over his shoulder. _

_ "But I was wrong." Ahsoka dropped into a crouch and ignited both sabers, her eyes bright, almost like she was going to cry. "My old Master could never be as cruel as you." _

_ Vader pivoted fully to face them, without lifting his saber, and Rex found himself too stunned to ready his blasters, for a second. _

_ That was what Ahsoka had been going to tell him. She'd believed Vader was… Anakin. Rex couldn't help taking a closer look at the hulking Sith in front of them, as if it might be true. Even though Ahsoka said she no longer believed it, the idea was so new and awful to him that he watched Vader’s posture, the way he walked, the lightsaber, in case it was true. In case there was any similarity at all. But Rex saw nothing but a murderer. _

_ "Anakin Skywalker was weak," said the Sith, simply. He seemed to be thinking, his head slightly tilted, to look at both of them. Then he took several steps in their direction, with his saber still poised at his side. "You mistake cruelty for strength, Ahsoka." _

_ Ahsoka's hands visibly tightened on her sabers, and she shot the smallest look back at Rex again. She looked afraid, so he stepped up right next to her, leveled his blasters at Vader with all the confidence he could manage. _

_ "You don’t get to talk about him,” Rex snarled. Vader was not Anakin - the idea was ridiculous. _

_ Vader was quiet, for a moment, which was strange, then he walked closer to them, slowly, his footsteps echoing even over the crackling of energy behind him and the shaking of the temple. “I understand more than you think, Captain Rex,” he said, still too steady. _

_ How did he know who Rex was? No one bothered to remember clones anymore, least of all  _ specific _ clones and their names. Rex swallowed and grit his teeth, because it didn’t matter how Vader knew. It didn’t. _

_ Ahsoka straightened slightly, her lips drawing into a thin line. “Leave Malachor,” she said, her voice ringing with ferocity, “or we will kill you.” _

_ Vader’s head tilted further, almost maddeningly curious. “Hatred is not the Jedi way.” _

_ Ahsoka’s smile was a very, very familiar thing, razor-sharp and cold. Rex felt, for a moment, as he had many, many years ago when someone else told General Kenobi, “you wouldn’t kill an unarmed man,” and Rex had wanted to laugh because perhaps the Jedi didn’t exact revenge, but Rex could. _

_ And he understood that as much as Ahsoka might regret how things had ended with the Jedi, however much  _ he _ still considered her a Jedi despite all her objections, they were alike in this: they weren’t going to spare the people who destroyed their whole world. _

_ “I’m no Jedi,” Ahsoka said, and sprung forward to attack. _

…

Rex began to catch himself talking to no one. He always caught the impulse, before he spoke out loud, but there was no one to talk to about what had happened, and he missed Cody more than he thought he ever had before - Ahsoka was dead, and so was everyone else, and Rex had never wished so much that Anakin was dead, too.

_ I want things to be how they were before, _ he imagined telling Cody.  _ I miss everyone so much. _

He imagined Cody would tell him everything was going to be okay.

He didn’t remember being so used to lying to himself, but he was tired, and it was easier to think about his old life than it was to accept that everything was really, completely gone.

Not that it hadn’t been, before, but he’d had Ahsoka, and he had imagined that Anakin had died how he’d lived: heroic, doing something important, trying to protect his friends.

Rex couldn’t imagine how this had all happened. No one could tell him, because there was no one left to ask what had happened to Anakin while they were fighting on the  _ Resolute. _ And everything he thought of seemed so improbable, so unlikely, because he’d  _ known  _ Anakin and Anakin would have never- Rex didn’t think he ever would have done the things he knew Vader had done.

Things had changed, at the end of the war, but Rex hadn’t ever thought they could change so  _ much. _

He’d taken to pacing the hallways of the new Rebel base, since Malachor, because it was still too hard to sleep at night and sometimes if he tired himself out enough in the cold, dim night cycle lighting, he could manage to sleep a few hours before it was time to get up and plan. Before now, someone would have noticed - Ahsoka would have tried to scold him into bed, or Cody or even Anakin would have cornered him into drinking or sparring until he felt like talking. But there was no point to wishful thinking, and Rex would simply have to figure this out on his own.

Tonight, however, as he debated raiding the cantina for caf, he heard almost-silent footsteps in the hall behind him and turned to see Kanan, walking quietly with a staff in one hand. Kanan’s eyes were still bandaged, although Rex had heard the injury had mostly healed, by now.

Unfortunately, Rex knew better than to think he could just sneak away from a Jedi because they were blind, and so stopped in the hall and cleared his throat. “Hello, Kanan,” he said, politely, hoping that a perfunctory exchange of pleasantries would do for now, and knowing that any Jedi worth their salt wouldn’t let him get away with it.

“Rex.” Kanan walked up to him and smiled slightly, settling in as if preparing for a good long talk. “How are you?”

“Fine,” Rex lied. “What about you, are you doing alright?” He couldn’t imagine losing his eyesight, and thought it would be a nightmare, but really he had no idea what it would be like and perhaps Kanan was alright. Either way, he really just wanted to keep Kanan from asking about him, or talking about Ahsoka.

Kanan sighed. “Yes. It takes getting used to, but I’m fine.” He folded his hands on top of his staff and lifted his chin slightly, giving Rex the impression that had he been able to, the Jedi would be looking him square in the eyes. “I haven’t seen you around.”

“I’ve been busy.” Rex shifted slightly and crossed his arms over his chest, a gesture that had become as comfortable as parade rest used to be, where he could be still and keep himself from fidgeting.

“Of course.” Kanan nodded. “Do you mind if I walk with you for a while?”

Rex hesitated, then let out a quiet sigh. “No, that’s fine. I was just going to the cantina.” He resumed his walk, with Kanan beside him, the Jedi’s staff tapping quietly on the floor. He wasn’t sure whether he was glad of the company or wanted Kanan to leave him alone, but was  _ quite  _ sure that he wasn’t ready for Kanan’s questions.

They were quiet for a long time, until they had entered the cantina and Rex had poured himself a big mug of caf and gotten out some bread and cheese for Kanan. They sat down, Kanan with a little help, and as Rex took his first sip of caf, Kanan folded his hands beside his plate and said, “I know you must miss Ahsoka.”

Anyone else would have sounded insensitive. Kanan was quiet and understanding. Rex shrugged, then caught himself and cleared his throat. “I do,” he agreed, guarded despite himself. He should have said more, but it caught in his throat, and all of a sudden his eyes stung, so he rubbed his thumb against the side of the cup and looked down, letting the cantina grow quiet again.

“I’m sorry that we couldn’t save her,” Kanan said.

“She didn’t want us to,” Rex answered. It wasn’t quite true, he knew it when he said it, but nothing was simple and he knew that what had happened was what Ahsoka wanted, if perhaps not the  _ only _ thing she wanted.

…

_ Vader threw Ahsoka over the edge of the temple stairs. _

_ Rex reacted without thinking, sprinting for the stairs to go to her, twisting as he ran to fire at Vader, who only hesitated a moment to block his blasts before turning away from them. _

_ Rex should have gone back, right away. But he didn’t think, just rushed down the flights of stone steps to Ahsoka as the entire temple  _ shook. _ He crouched by her, pressed his fingers to her pulse point. _

_ “I’m fine.” Ahsoka caught his hand, looked fiercely at him, clearly winded. “I’ll be right behind you - go protect Ezra.” _

_ Rex stilled, then nodded and, reluctantly, left her. He knew she was fine, and she’d be on his six in a moment, but he didn’t like to leave her behind. _

_ And was ashamed of himself for having gone after her at all, because unless Ezra had managed to get himself far away from them by now, he would probably be facing Vader alone. _

_ The temple was closing. The suspended walls of the pyramid that had been immovable before, if unstable, seemed to be collapsing in on themselves, white and red light blazing from beyond them, and it took everything Rex had to keep running, ducking slightly to get under the walls into the chamber. _

_ Squinting against all the light, he saw Vader, standing with his arm outstretched, and Ezra and  _ Kanan,  _ straining against nothing, clearly trying to escape an invisible grip. Rex fired both blasters at once, into the small of Vader’s back. _

_ The Sith turned so that only one bolt singed his cloak and he caught the other on his saber, his attention now focused squarely on Rex, so that Ezra and Kanan could scramble away behind him. Rex slowed to a steady walk, holding his blaster pistols up and aimed at Vader’s chest. _

_ “Perhaps  _ you  _ can tell me where the remaining Jedi are,” Vader said. “I have no doubt that you know.” _

_ “She’s the last one,” Rex said. Not a lie, not the truth. Ahsoka was one of the last of the old Jedi left. The new Jedi were something else, and they were a well-guarded secret. “And neither of us will ever help you.” _

_ “Why die for nothing?” Vader was just shy of cajoling, his voice pitching quieter, although it still carried in the chamber. “You would be spared, even offered a place at my side, if you were honest with me.” _

_ Rex scoffed. “You think I’m afraid of you? After what you did to my brothers, my family, you think I’m going to tell you  _ anything?” _ He stopped walking, still staring at Vader. “I’ll kill you first.” _

_ There was a loud rumble, a crack, the sound of raining debris, and Rex almost lost his footing, and in the split second lapse, Vader took several steps forward, raised his hand, and Rex’s breath was caught fast in his throat. _

_ While he still could, he fired off his blasters at Vader, and the Sith deflected the shots with one hand, and the pressure on Rex’s throat redoubled. Rex coughed, clinging to his weapons, and fought to drag in even a little air. His eyes watering, black and blue spots drifting in his sight, he glared at Vader and weakly lifted his blaster pistol for another attack. _

_ Ahsoka crashed into Vader like a breaking wave. There was a shower of sparks as her boot impacted his chest and her saber snapped through Vader’s mask in a near-beheading. Breath rushed back into Rex’s lungs as the grip disappeared from around his throat, and he coughed and doubled over and sucked in a few desperate breaths. _

_ Ahsoka was poised behind Vader, now, and the Sith had a hand to his mask, his breathing rasping even louder. He slowly straightened, although one of his legs buckled as if he might fall, and the wind tugged his cloak tight against his form. There was a wide, glowing crack through his mask, a piece missing, and as Vader lowered his hand, looking back and forth between Rex and Ahsoka, Rex’s hands went slack on his blaster pistols. _

_ Vader’s eye glared out from the crack in the mask, a fierce eyebrow and snarling curve to his lips. And although the visible eye was yellow and bloodshot, it was familiar, and Rex couldn’t move. _

_ “Anakin,” Ahsoka said, her voice gone quiet and vulnerable. It felt like time froze, the sounds of the temple shaking and cracking fading into nothing. Rex vaguely heard Ezra shouting, and registered that they had barely any space left to leave the chamber, but he couldn’t look away from Vader, who didn’t move from between them, held his saber low at his side. He looked hunched, and uncertain. And although Rex couldn’t see his whole face, he still knew that look too well. _

_ Rex took a slow step back, wanting to run to Ahsoka and get her out of there, not sure what was going to happen. This wasn’t Anakin. It couldn’t be. But Vader looked at him when he moved, and it was the same face that had belonged to their brother. _

_ “Rex,” he said. “Ahsoka.” It was the same voice, too, the mask’s vocoder only distorting it a little now, the tone lighter and more familiar, not amplified as it had been. _

_ “What happened?” Rex said, although he almost didn’t register himself saying it - he felt a little like someone else was talking for him, like he wasn’t really there. _

_ Vader straightened further, his expression almost slackening, and turned abruptly to Ahsoka, his free hand curling into a fist. His breathing rasped horribly, in and out. _

_ Ahsoka lifted her chin, her expression twisting with guilt, and Rex understood abruptly that they weren’t safe. _

_ Vader lashed out with his saber. _

_ Ahsoka couldn’t move fast enough, and the red blade sunk into her side, and she staggered. _

_ Rex sprinted around Vader without even thinking, firing off his right blaster pistol wildly at the Sith so he had to jolt back to catch the shots on his saber. Rex got to Ahsoka and fitted his arm under his shoulders, tugged her against him to support her, and leveled his free pistol at Vader. Behind them, the walls of the temple were shaking. Vader’s face was almost unrecognizable, twisted in pain and fury. _

_ “We’re going,” Rex snarled. There was wet warmth on his cheeks. “Don’t come any closer.” He didn’t know how they were going to get out of here without Vader catching the  _ Ghost, _ but they’d think of something. _

_ Ahsoka shrugged a little, straightening, and Rex let her step away from him as she raised her sabers slowly. “I won’t leave,” she said, almost as if she was talking to both of them, and then abruptly turned and shoved her hand out at Rex, palm flat. _

_ The Force blow struck him in the chest, throwing him back from Ahsoka and Vader so that he crashed into the lowest part of the temple walls and fell to the ground, his chest aching. The walls were only a few feet from the floor now, and Rex felt someone - Kanan - grab his arm and start dragging him away from the chamber. _

_ “Let go!” Rex ripped his hand free and struggled to get up off the floor, but another concussive blow hit him and he skidded under the wall, into the dark outside, and Kanan gripped his shoulder. _

_ “We have to go. Now, Rex.” _

_ The whole pyramid quaked, suddenly, and there was the shriek of metal on stone as the  _ Ghost  _ shifted behind them and Kanan almost lost his balance. The temple walls were cracking and pieces of masonry began to explode out of the edges of the walls, and then with a horrible grinding  _ crack _ the walls crashed back down to meet the floor, and the red light that had been glaring out of the chamber went dark. _

_ “Ahsoka!” Rex shoved himself to his feet, and the world spun, a ringing noise filling his head. _

_ Kanan caught him as he swayed, put firm pressure on his shoulders. “We have to go,” he repeated. _

_ Rex went. _

…

“Still, I’m sorry that we had to leave,” Kanan said. He folded his hands quietly in front of him. “I know you must blame me, a little.”

Rex exhaled sharply, almost a laugh. Perhaps he could blame Kanan, but for what? Ahsoka had forced them to leave, so they had. And the temple had exploded behind them and almost disabled the  _ Ghost. _ He took a deep breath and tightened his hands around his cup of caf. “I don’t,” he said, firmly. “That was Vader’s fault, no one else’s. I know we had no choice.”

Rex didn’t add that he would rather have stayed with Ahsoka and Vader when the temple was destroyed. Kanan wouldn’t understand. But Rex was tired of being left behind.

Kanan sighed again and took a bite of his bread and cheese, looking thoughtful for a moment. “If you need anything, Rex… I’d be glad to help any way I can.”

Rex shook his head, but mustered a smile and cleared his throat. “Of course,” he answered. “Thank you, Kanan. Same to you.”

The Jedi smiled, slightly, then sighed and got up from the table, picking up his plate in one hand and his staff in the other. “Goodnight, Captain,” he said, and began carefully making his way around the tables by means of his staff, his head tilted thoughtfully. Rex resisted the urge to offer help, and instead took a long, bracing swallow of caf and then put his head in his hands.

He felt weak, and shaky, because all of a sudden everything was so close to the surface.

Ahsoka was dead. Anakin had been Vader this entire time, and Rex found himself hoping he was dead too, although it seemed horrible and impossible all at once. His brothers were gone, all but Wolffe and Gregor, and he hadn’t been able to save more of them.

There was  _ no one  _ left, anymore.

And it was  _ Anakin’s fault. _ His Jedi, his General, his  _ brother  _ had done all this to them, and as good as killed Ahsoka, and hurt Rex’s brothers, and ruined what little chance Rex would have had to discover what normal life would be like. They’d all started to dream a little, as the war seemed to be drawing to a close, about what they would do after. They’d talked about how they would find a way to leave the GAR, how maybe some of the Senators and the Jedi would support them if they wanted to be recognized as sentients, how they would get to explore new planets, meet new people, settle down. Rex hadn’t known what he wanted, but he thought he was excited to try to figure it out.

There had been some good things, since, some ways that he’d gotten to just be like anyone else. But those moments were few and far between, and grief had been so thick over everything for so long that it had only recently begun to feel like he was getting comfortable again. Now it just felt cracked open and raw again.

He missed them all so  _ much. _

He should have stayed with Ahsoka. She should have let him stay, he would have preferred that - he felt that he  _ hated  _ Vader, but if the last two people he’d cared about most were going to die there, he would rather have been there too.

He thought that was why the Mandalorians said in their remembrances  _ I am still alive, and you are gone.  _ It started to feel like too much, after a while, how many people died while Rex just kept going. And he knew he had things he needed to, a job he needed to see done, but he always wondered why he was left behind?

It was like Cody said. It was hard to be the one who survived.

_ Gods, _ Rex missed them. But he couldn’t bring himself to do his remembrances, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t let it go or forget it.

He felt trapped.

He left his caf in the cantina and paced through the halls alone for the rest of the night, trying to distract himself from his thoughts.

People kept asking Rex if he was alright. There was a general air of concern among the officers who knew him, and the  _ Ghost  _ crew seemed particularly insistent on checking in with him. Although they were preoccupied with their own business, they were kind to Rex and would try to ask his help with things where they probably didn’t need him.

Rex didn’t step in, often. It was too hard to face them, and he was afraid of them bringing up what had happened - he’d found it was easiest to try to forget. He was working with Wolffe and Gregor, who had the sense to let him leave Ahsoka and Malachor a closed subject. And none of them knew who Vader was, what Rex was hiding now. That Vader used to be Anakin Skywalker, used to be their brother in arms, used to be Ahsoka’s Master and Kenobi’s padawan and a famed war hero. Logically, Rex knew that the knowledge might be useful to the Rebellion - the kind of political damage that knowledge could potentially do would be interesting, and there were probably things that Vader was able to do and know because of his training as a Jedi that no one else would know. Perhaps the loyal, responsible thing to do would have been to tell the Rebellion Commanders and Bail Organa:  _ Darth Vader used to be Anakin. _

But Rex couldn’t help but be selfish, so he told no one. He knew what would happen if he did: they’d all sit him down in a briefing room and ask him question after question about Anakin Skywalker, about his old General’s tactics, about old tricks and habits and patterns of Anakin’s that might give them clues into Vader’s motivations, about if he’d ever wondered if something like this would happen. Rex would have to dissect everything he remembered about his General in a room full of people who wouldn’t understand when he said that it wouldn’t matter. That he didn’t think there was anything similar between Darth Vader and Anakin Skywalker. Ahsoka was right, Anakin never could have been as cruel as Vader was, and Anakin  _ never  _ would have betrayed Rex and his  _ vode  _ like he did.

So Rex wasn’t going to hand over all his old memories to a committee of officers who wouldn’t understand. And he wasn’t going to let anyone else talk about Anakin’s betrayal. That wasn’t theirs to know about and it wasn’t theirs to use a political tool, and Rex didn’t care if it was selfish. He’d done his duty a thousand times in the past. This time he was going to keep one thing for himself.

He imagined Ahsoka would agree with him.

They had a memorial service for her after what people considered a respectful amount of time, enough time that a gathering wouldn’t garner suspicion, enough time that even Bail Organa could quietly slip away from Alderaan with his wife and daughter to come to a tiny base on Atollon and pay respects to a stone memorial which Rex had been asked to help pick out. (It was just a stone with her name on it. Rex had told them to call her a Jedi on the memorial. He thought maybe Ahsoka wouldn’t approve, but he thought it was the best title to suit her legacy and what she had always wanted, when they were younger.) It was a small group, but there were several very important people gathered in one place at great risk, because they all knew Ahsoka. They knew her from before, or they knew her as Fulcrum, or they knew she had been one of the last remaining Jedi. Wolffe and Gregor came, and Wolffe put his hand on Rex’s shoulder and left it there the whole time, because he was the only person left who really knew how close Rex had been with Ahsoka, who considered Ahsoka almost a sister because of General Plo.

They didn’t talk about it, though, and Bail Organa was the only one to talk to Rex about it. He walked over after the short remembrance, with his daughter Leia walking beside him. Leia was an adopted daughter, reportedly, and paler and more solemn than her parents, although there was a spark of mischief in her eyes - there were rumors that Imperial officers and diplomats dreaded having to work with the teenaged Princess of Alderaan, because she had a knack for picking your argument apart quickly and then walking off as comfortable as ever. Rex always thought there was something familiar about her, but then he’d only known a few Senators he respected and she reminded him of both her father and Senator Amidala.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Organa said, quietly, meeting Rex’s eyes in a way that was just a little too knowing. “I understand losing her like you did must have been hard.”

“Is there anything you don’t know?” Rex said, wryly. He sometimes thought Organa never slept - the man seemed to read and be familiar with every mission report the Rebellion ever made.

“Many things.” Organa smiled slightly. “But I make it a point to keep track of a few things. And my daughter always liked Lady Tano.”

“She will be missed,” Princess Leia said, and it was so clinical of her that Rex had to smile.

“She already is, your highness,” he answered. “But I appreciate the sentiment.”

Organa’s lips twitched in a smile that was almost amused, but he only shook his head and started to turn away. Then he paused, a look of uncertainty crossing his face, and looked back at Rex. “Do you still believe Anakin Skywalker is dead as well, Commander?”

Rex looked down, his throat closing off. He wasn’t sure why the Senator was asking the question, and didn’t care. He just wanted to avoid the topic. “I’ve seen no evidence to the contrary, Senator.”

There was quiet for a moment, then, “I’m sorry,” Organa said, and Rex looked up to see him bow and walk away. The Princess only hesitated a moment longer after her father before walking away too, with her chin up imperiously as if to make up for her small stature.

Rex folded his hands behind his back and swallowed against a painful lump in his throat.

He waited quietly outside by the memorial until everyone else had left and the dusty plains of Atollon were silent except for the sound of the wind and distant ship engines. Wolffe was hesitant to leave him alone, but Rex promised he’d join them later for drinks, and Wolffe clapped him on the back and left with his hands in his pockets.

Rex didn’t have much left of the blue paint he’d always used on his armor - he touched up his armor only when he had to, to stretch out the paint, which despite his best efforts was growing tacky and harder to use. It was ridiculous to be attached to something like a paint color, but it always reminded Rex of his brothers. When he sat down in front of the memorial stone and cracked open the lid of the paint can, the smell was sharp in his nose, brought back afternoons in the barracks with his  _ vode  _ while they tried to get even lines on their armor and he smoothed a new coat over his pauldrons and  _ jaig  _ eyes. He remembered his artistic brothers in the 501st making a stencil out of thick flimsi so when they all painted Ahsoka’s markings onto their helmets, they would look as close to identical as possible, and how they’d all laughed at each other but been so proud because of their newly-painted helmets. Cody had said they looked like a costume party. Anakin had actually teared up and told Rex he thought it was the best idea they’d ever had.

_ “She’s really back,”  _ he’d said.  _ “Do you think she might stay?” _

_ “Who knows?”  _ Rex had told him, although really, he  _ did  _ know - Ahsoka wasn’t coming back for them. She would have told them. She would have commed them ahead of time, she would have told Anakin as soon as she landed. But she wouldn’t be staying, they all knew it. But Rex thought maybe the paint would tell her they were sorry she’d been betrayed, and tell her they’d welcome her back, whenever she wanted to come home.

There wasn’t much carved on the memorial:  _ Ahsoka Tano, Jedi Knight, Rebel. May the Force be with you. _ Rex took a fine, stiff-bristled brush out of his belt pouch and settled in to fill in the carved words with paint.

After a little while, he heard footsteps behind him, just a slight whisper on the ground, and didn’t turn, assuming either Kanan or Organa had come back to visit again, and not wanting to talk to them if he didn’t have to.

“She’d appreciate it,” he said, mildly. “And before you tell me I shouldn’t meddle with this, she was my friend before she was any of yours.”

“That’s probably true.” The warm, crisp Core World accent had a hint of amusement behind it, which was familiar but which made Rex instinctively straighten, a thrill of horror and disbelief and relief shooting up his spine. “I certainly don’t object. I agree it’s fitting.”

“Kriffing-” Rex shoved to his feet and spun on his heel, his grip on his paintbrush almost tight enough to snap it. “Gods  _ damn you,  _ Kenobi.”

The Jedi High General’s hair was much paler and greyer, his face dusted with more freckles and creased wrinkles around his eyes, his beard almost entirely white, but it was very much the same wry smile and blue eyes that had been infamous between the 501st and 212th battalions. He was wearing a thick brown robe and, on closer inspection, looked as if he hadn’t seen another Human in years. But it was him, damn him.

The bastard was  _ alive. _

“I apologize for startling you,” Kenobi said, still a bit amused, although he seemed to understand that Rex wasn’t laughing and certainly wasn’t about to. “I suppose I couldn’t help myself.”

“Where have you  _ been?” _ Rex snapped, and then, a thought occurring to him, “Where’s Cody? What happened to him?”

The last of the amusement, and the smile, dropped off Kenobi’s face, and he looked a thousand years old. Gesturing at the memorial, he sat down, and Rex reluctantly followed suit a moment later when Kenobi was still quiet.

“I don’t know where Cody is,” Kenobi said. “I haven’t… been able to look for him.”

“Oh.” Rex sighed and looked down. “I hoped… if you weren’t dead, I thought maybe you were able to-”

“No.” Kenobi folded his hands. “Much as I wanted to, I couldn’t. I’ve had- something to protect.”

“Right.” Rex rubbed his face, at a loss, then laughed nearly hysterical and went back to painting in the memorial, his hand shaking. “You know, don’t you. About Anakin.”

“Yes.”

“What the kriff  _ happened? _ I get the feeling you know, Kenobi, so don’t fekking lie to me, why did he- What happened?” Rex stared at the memorial stone because he thought if he looked at Kenobi he might not be able to compose himself. He could barely handle the fact that the Jedi was alive, and he didn’t think he’d be able to deal with the fact that he  _ knew  _ Kenobi would have that look - the one that meant he was  _ hurt,  _ and sad. Rex hadn’t seen it often. The last time he did, they walked out of a slave camp together. Rex didn’t need that sort of reminder.

“I don’t know,” Kenobi said, slowly. “At least… I can really only guess. He trusted Palpatine too much, and was trying to protect Padme, that much I know. I know you know how important she was to him.”

“I know,” Rex answered, glancing back without totally meaning to. Kenobi looked lost in thought, far away, and Rex rubbed his hand over his face and swallowed. “I don’t understand, General-” Kenobi gave him a look, “sorry, Kenobi, I don’t understand how he could- But we  _ saw him. _ I know it was him, he said-” Rex stopped and gritted his teeth to try to keep from rambling. “I don’t understand.”

Kenobi put a hand on his shoulder, which Rex very nearly shrugged off. But he didn’t, because he wasn’t really angry at the Jedi and he knew it. He was angry at Anakin, and the lack of answers, and the awful feeling of disappointment and betrayal that he hadn’t been able to shake for weeks.

“I’ve thought about it for a long time,” Kenobi told him, quietly. “I thought perhaps it was my fault, but although I can claim responsibility for many things, I’ve had to admit that it’s prideful of me to place the blame on my own shoulders. The truth is, I believe we were all played for fools by the Emperor, and Anakin was the target of it all.” He sighed. “He caused Padme’s death, and he led the march on the Temple before that. I’m the reason he’s been confined to that suit, and perhaps I didn’t teach him as well as I should have, but I’m afraid he’s still the only one who really knows why he’s done this.”

Rex set his brush down and, reluctantly, looked more closely at Kenobi. Although his expression was relatively calm, the Jedi had a tight set to his jaw that told Rex he was struggling to maintain his composure - Rex couldn’t imagine how guilty he must feel. Rex didn’t feel guilty, but he understood, and so he hesitated and then put his hand on Kenobi’s shoulder, which seemed to startle him.

“I’m sure it wasn’t your fault, Kenobi,” Rex said, quietly. “I think Ahsoka blamed herself, too. But neither of you were ever shitty enough to cause the kind of things he did, so… I don’t understand it, but this is on him.”

“I know,” Kenobi said, and smiled just a little. “But thank you, Rex.” He shifted, and looked at the memorial with a bitter twist of his lips. “I shouldn’t be here, but… I had to say goodbye to her. Bail told me what happened.”

Rex rubbed his forehead. “I just… Everyone’s gone now, Kenobi.” He shook his head. “Except you, apparently. She- I don’t know, she was the last person I had, and now she’s dead and I can’t even- I never thought I’d  _ wish  _ Anakin was dead.”

“I know.” Kenobi put his hand on top of Rex’s, on his shoulder, and for a moment it felt so strangely steadying and familiar that Rex wanted to get up and run away before everything caught up to him. But he couldn’t, because the truth was that it finally felt like someone understood, and he’d never known Kenobi well but he’d trusted him.

Rex swallowed. “Back when- we rescued Echo, Cody told me- He said how hard it was, being the only one to survive sometimes. I told him I was tired of losing people, and I was, and I still- Did you know the  _ Resolute  _ crashed? My whole battalion that wasn’t with Anakin died, and we buried all of them, and- I don’t think I’ll ever be able to make myself go back and visit their graves. And I tried to find anyone who was left, I tried to find Cody, and I couldn’t.”

Kenobi squeezed his hand, quietly, and let go. He looked as tired as Rex felt. “I didn’t know,” he said. “If you want to go back, I’d come with you. If you’d like.”

Rex’s throat closed up and he had to look down and close his eyes, feeling both horribly lonely and horribly seen. It was strange and awful and he thought he was going to cry, except if he started he thought he might not be able to stop. “No,” he said, thickly. “Maybe someday, but… Not now. I can’t go back. But if you want to see them, I’d tell you where we buried them.”

“Alright,” Kenobi said, gently, and Rex let his hand drop from Kenobi’s shoulder.

They were very quiet, for a while. Rex went back to painting the letters on the memorial, and Kenobi sat with him and helped him paint a few designs on the corners of the memorial. Her Fulcrum symbol, a pair of  _ jaig  _ eyes, the symbol of the Open Circle fleet, and, last of all, the symbol of the Jedi Order. By the time they’d finished, they’d both shed a few tears, which they politely didn’t point out. Kenobi handed Rex back his brush after finishing the Jedi symbol and wiped his fingers on his robes. “I don’t recommend you use it often,” he said, taking out a piece of dusty flimsi from his pocket and pressing it into Rex’s hand, “but if you need to contact me, this is how you can. I recommend you memorize it and be rid of it.”

“Why haven’t you been around?” Rex asked, without bite. “Seems unlike you.”

“I told you, I have something to protect.” Kenobi smiled a little. “Someday perhaps I’ll explain it to you.”

“Good luck then,” Rex said. “And stay safe, Obi-Wan.”

The Jedi smiled wryly, and folded his robes closer around him. “I will. You too, Rex.”

Rex nodded, and then, impulsively, just as Kenobi was walking away, lazily put his hand up in a salute, catching Kenobi’s eye. He didn’t know why, it just felt right. Maybe a goodbye, maybe just respect, maybe he felt like Obi-Wan deserved to know that someone at least still thought of him as a leader, a hero even.

Obi-Wan returned the salute with a nearly guilty smile, a cocked eyebrow, very nearly like old times, and then turned away and left, his shoulders hunching forward as if he was carrying a tangible weight.

Rex turned back to Ahsoka’s memorial and took a deep breath.

He remembered, if no one else ever would.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sad again. I wrote most of this in one day, I don't even know if it's good or anything but I liked writing it. I couldn't get the idea out of my head of Obi-Wan and Rex going to the graves of the 501st together.
> 
> It's been months since S7 of TCW and I still haven't recovered. Also, please join me in hoping that Rex is with Ahsoka in the Mandalorian so we know that they aren't lonely anymore.
> 
> Leave a comment or come chat with me on Tumblr!

Endor was one of the most beautiful places Rex had ever visited. Even after the battle, when whole swathes of trees and ferns were burnt and scarred, the lush green growth looked clean and old and the air smelled like earth and rain. But the best part was the exhausted, relieved smiles on the faces of celebrating Rebels, the fireworks in the sky and the music that echoed through the massive trees as the sun disappeared below the horizon.

Amidst fireflies and drunk soldiers, Rex found his way to a seat on a log at the edge of the fires and watched them celebrate. It was a little hard to watch - there were people he wished were here, who he would have loved to see getting to celebrate a victory like this. But when he settled in, rested his hands on the rough bark under him and let his shoulders fall back, the merriment washed over him, and he let it. It was over. It was all over, for real.

Luke Skywalker -  _ Luke Skywalker,  _ the kid’s name was - had brought a body back with him from the Death Star. Vader’s body. Rex had a good idea as to where Luke was now, as he and his friends weren't caught up in the middle of the party, and Rex understood. Some people partied and shouted and got drunk when they won. Rex preferred to be with the people he loved, let the good things sink in where it was quiet.

But it was good to be here. This time, the noise and shouting and celebration made him feel more sure it was real. That there was no more Emperor, no more Sith, just a chance to try again. It was a good feeling. Rex thought he was getting too old for everything he would have wanted to do, which was ironic - he was only thirty-six, and looked and felt twice that age. Ahsoka would have made fun of him for acting like an old man, which would have been justified.

She would have been forty. He wondered if she would have felt as old as he did.

Still, with the war over, for the first time in years, Rex let himself lapse into some wishful thinking. He’d asked a Rebellion doctor, once, if there was anything they could do about his accelerated aging, and the answer had been that the Kaminoans might know but there was really nothing for it. Rex had perhaps ten or fifteen years and then that was it. He thought it was probably by design - the Republic would have liked a longer lived army. The Emperor probably wanted all remnants of the old Republic to die out as fast as possible. So at the end of the day, Rex’s prognosis was no good: he had half the time he should, and then in all likelihood he’d be dead. Not a very dignified end, but then, he already felt  _ old. _

All that aside, however, with the time he finally had left all to himself - for whatever he wanted! - Rex thought he’d like to get to travel. He’d never been one for travel before, but he thought he wanted to see more of the galaxy now. Find somewhere like this, that he thought was special, find his own house, pick out clothes and hobbies and friends and settle in for the time he had left. He could hunt bounties (because he couldn’t imagine putting his blasters away for good). He’d visit Wolffe often, maybe even Sabine and Hera, because he cared about them. Maybe one of these days he’d find the courage to visit Luke Skywalker and talk to him about Anakin, and Senator Amidala, and he could explain to him about how the Jedi used to be. Explain to him about General Kenobi - rumor had it that Obi-Wan had been the one to train the young Skywalker, and really, the stories Rex heard around the Rebellion didn’t make him doubt it. The kid sounded like his father, and he sounded like Obi-Wan. It was strange. People talked about him like he was a myth, but Rex liked to imagine he was like Ahsoka used to be.

Rex wished he’d been able to say goodbye to Obi-Wan. He’d always considered the General a friend, had respected him for how much Cody cared about him. But he’d had to learn from whispers around the Rebel forces about his death - Rex wouldn’t have believed it, except he knew that if Obi-Wan was alive, he would probably be here now. After all, the General had an unfortunate habit of sticking too close to the Skywalkers.

Before he’d died, though, before the destruction of Alderaan - a whole system,  _ Organa,  _ was gone - he’d commed Rex. It had only been a month or so before everything happened, Rex realized. It must not have been a coincidence.

...

_ “I was going to visit the  _ Resolute _ ,” Obi-Wan said, his voice quiet over Rex’s comm. Rex flinched where he had tucked himself in a corner of the cafeteria, so people couldn’t hear his conversation. “I wanted to give you the opportunity to come with me. It may… It’s been some time, I know, but I thought perhaps it may be helpful.” _

_ Rex debated for a long moment, his fingers folded tightly together. He’d wanted to go back, so many times - after all, wasn’t that a thing you were supposed to do? Visit graves? And the memories of digging those graves and dragging out bodies into the cold sunlight were so fresh, sometimes he wanted to go and remind himself that it was all still and cold and nothing had changed. That there was no blood in his fingernails anymore and that his brothers were gone, not waiting behind his shoulder to blame him. It was long enough he should have been able to let it go. But it felt so raw, sometimes. _

_ He was afraid to go back. He was afraid of the finality of it, and the reminder, and most afraid that maybe their work hadn’t lasted and there would be nothing left but a few scattered pieces of rubble. _

_ “I don’t know,” he said. “I… There’s a lot to do, here.” _

_ “It’ll be alright, Rex,” Obi-Wan answered, quietly, not even bothering to respond to his excuse. “I’m not sure I feel ready for it, myself, but I feel that I owe them that. And perhaps it would help you gain closure.” _

_ “I think that part of my life is already fekking closed,” Rex said, sharper than he meant, his throat hurting. He shook his head, tried to take a different tone. “I know what it looks like, I know they’re all dead.” _

_ Obi-Wan made a sympathetic noise that just barely came over the comm. “Perhaps it will be easier if you have a quieter memory of the place, Rex.” He sighed. “But you don’t have to come with me. I just thought you may want to.” _

_ Rex shook his head, rubbing his forehead distractedly. At first, Obi-Wan’s comment sounded like banthashit. But he knew what he meant, really. When he thought about the  _ Resolute, _ and the graves, he just remembered pulling pieces of his brothers out of a wreck, and Ahsoka’s despairing face, and the blisters on his hands and icy dirt under his nails and feeling like he’d never sleep again. _

_ Maybe it would feel more like he’d done something good, if he went back. Or at least, maybe he’d stop feeling like he’d only made the end worse. _

_ He wished Ahsoka was here. _

_ “I shouldn’t let you go alone,” he said, finally, grimly. “It’s not safe out there. Besides… it may be hard to find.” _

_ “Alright,” Obi-Wan answered. _

_ That was how Rex found himself back on the snow-covered moon where they’d crashed, over twenty years ago. He landed near a tiny, junky freighter, and when he stepped out of his ship, Obi-Wan was already walking down the ramp of the freighter, wrapped snugly in a worn robe, his hair even whiter, a tired smile on his face. _

_ Rex missed  _ everyone, _ acutely. _

_ Obi-Wan only nodded at him before turning to look at a hulking, snow-covered shape before them: parts of the  _ Resolute  _ were bare of snow where the wind had scoured it clean, but drifts of snow obscured much of its shape so that it almost looked inconspicuous. A bone-deep shiver cut through Rex, although he couldn’t feel the wind. _

_ “Let’s go,” he said, grimly, and Obi-Wan followed him silently towards the fallen monstrosity. _

_ At first, it looked as though there really was nothing left of the graves - snowbanks had hidden most of the ship, and Rex didn’t see anything at first but a few twisted pieces of metal sticking out of the ground where they had put the helmets. Then, as they got closer, he could see further into where the gaping hull of the ship had provided cover, and it was all still there. _

_ Row after row of make-shift markers, most of which still had helmets balanced on them, rattling slightly in the wind. For a moment, Rex froze and couldn’t move any closer, almost horrified by his own markers - they were faces he hadn’t seen in so long, patterns and shapes and colors that he knew so well. He couldn’t see Jesse’s helmet, but the others… they were all there. His brothers. _

_ He gulped in a breath and found himself shaking. He didn’t know why he’d come back, and he wished… He wished a lot of things. _

_ Obi-Wan stepped very close to him, and put a hand on his arm, and Rex felt a brush like a warm breeze and his heart rate settled - Obi-Wan using the Force to calm him. It almost upset him, but then, he was used to Jedi tricks and knew Obi-Wan was just trying to help. And it made him feel less cold. _

_ “Are you alright?” the Jedi asked. “We don’t have to stay.” _

_ “Yeah.” Rex swallowed. “I just… haven’t been here since we crashed. It’s… a lot.” _

_ “I know.” Obi-Wan squeezed his arm and then let go, and when Rex glanced at him he was staring at the helmets, his chin lifted, a determinedly quiet sort of look on his face. He seemed far away, and yet not. “I am sorry, Rex,” he said, almost absently, a little twist to his lips. “I suppose… Even now I don’t know how to stop missing them all. I’m not sure we’re meant to, in the end.” _

_ Rex wondered how often he’d thought about that. Sometimes he wondered, himself, whether it should have stopped hurting so much by now. _

_ But every time he said his remembrances and listed all the names he could, he knew that he’d lost too much to just… forget. It just hurt a little less, sometimes. _

_ “I want to find Jesse’s helmet,” he said, and walked forward without further explanation. _

_ He was relieved when Obi-Wan followed, because he felt dwarfed by the size of the crashed ship and by the rows of his dead brothers. _

_ There were several helmets lying on the ground as he walked, which he picked up and dusted off, snow sticking to his gloves. Where he could, he placed the empty helmets back on their markers, and cleared frost off the visors. It felt important. Obi-Wan quietly took to helping him, and they toiled at it in the snow for a long time. Rex’s fingers were cold, but his shivering was mostly from the wind, now, and he’d found a methodical rhythm that helped him focus. _

_ They found Jesse’s helmet nearly buried. There was only a sliver of blue visible, just a flash, but Rex saw it and plunged his hand into the snow, got his fingers around the curved rim of the helmet and tugged it free. The familiar pattern - once uncovered - made all the air rush out of his lungs in a horrible punched-out feeling. _

_ “Jesse,” he whispered, and brushed his fingers over the plastoid, feeling so weary he thought he might not be able to walk away from here when he was finished with his self-appointed task. _

_ But the pain wasn’t fresh anymore, really, so after a moment he was able to sigh, slowly, press his forehead to the frigid plastoid and cling on tight to what was left of his sanity, which felt frayed thin. He knew he was crying, and he wanted to stop, but he felt like he couldn’t breathe without letting it all out. An exhale got stuck in his chest, a hot, choked feeling, and pain that should have been less sharp, by now. _

_ Everything was so quiet. He remembered when they first dug the graves, Ahsoka had tried to tell him he should sleep, but he hadn’t been able to stop searching for his brothers. “This is  _ my fault,”  _ she’d told him. “Go get some rest, I’ll do it.” _

_ “No,” he said, “they’re  _ my  _ brothers, I have to.” _

_ She had let him. _

_ Rex let out a shivery breath that was almost a sob and straightened, turned to set Jesse’s helmet onto one of the metal stakes, and looked at it for a moment. They were still here, after all, and he still -  _ still -  _ missed them. _

_ Rex’s breath hitched on a near-sob, and a few tears squeezed out of his eyes, hot on his cheeks. He couldn’t seem to stop it, once he started, and he hunched forward and pressed a hand to his eyes, trying to catch his breath. When he couldn’t, however, Obi-Wan settled a hand on his shoulder and coaxed him to sit down while he cried. For a long time, Rex struggled to compose himself, but it proved to be useless, so he gave in to the tears, which felt like they were a long time coming, like he was making up for lost time. By the time his emotions settled and he could lift his head from where he’d buried his face in his hands, Obi-Wan was rubbing his back and staring regretfully at the graves. It was soothing. _

_ “You did a good thing here,” he said, after a moment, quietly. _

_ Rex chuckled weakly and scrubbed frosty tears off his cheeks. “We tried to. I thought they’d all be gone.” He looked at Jesse’s helmet. “Do you think… Do you think they’re okay now?” He’d never been one to wonder about what happened after you died, because he didn’t think there could be much after, but sometimes he thought the Jedi might know more than he did. And he wanted to think maybe they were still there, in a way. _

_ Obi-Wan shot him an odd little smile. “Jedi believe that when we die, we become part of the living Force,” he said, “and I have no reason to doubt it. And I don’t think that means we disappear, so yes. I think they’re alright.” _

_ Rex laughed again, swallowed, and closed his eyes briefly. “Thanks, Kenobi.” _

_ “Of course, Rex,” Obi-Wan said, almost amused. _

_ They left things as they’d found them, the planet quiet, the  _ Resolute _ undisturbed. _

_ Rex left his helmet sitting in the snow in front of the other graves. He didn’t know why, almost, except he thought he wanted to leave them  _ something. _ And as much as he missed all the pieces of his old life that he didn’t have anymore, he thought it would be more fitting to leave it. If there was any way his brothers could see him now, he thought they would appreciate that he hadn’t forgotten, that he missed them, that he was bound and determined that if there was anything after this life, he’d see them again. _

…

Rex liked to imagine he wouldn’t be lonely, someday. He didn’t think he’d  _ moved on,  _ in the sense people said it, and he didn’t even think things were less painful. But after they’d visited the graves, after Obi-Wan had died, he either had to give up, or he had to find something else. There was nothing left of his old life to hang on to, and he knew it, except memories. It hurt, of course, and sometimes he really did wonder what he thought he was going to accomplish, but he’d longed for the end of the wars and it was here.

If he was going to have to go on surviving past everyone he’d ever cared about, then damn it all, at the very least he would find something to enjoy about it. So maybe that would be travelling, or teaching the Skywalker kid about his family, or (in a pinch) trying to keep the Rebel army from immediately collapsing on itself. He’d find something.

For now, however, he pushed himself up from his seat and decided to get some time to himself, because as much as he loved the festivities, there was something he wanted to find.

He knew so little of what had happened, on the Death Star. But he knew that apart from the celebration, Luke Skywalker had dragged a broken, hulking body from his ship, and he knew that the kid had had a funeral of his own.

Rex thought there was something ironic about it all.

He found a pyre of stacked wood, already in full blaze, with only a black silhouette telling him where Vader’s body was. No one was around, anymore, so Rex sat down and stared at the fire till it hurt his eyes, and tried to figure out how to feel. He wasn’t sure if he was glad - he ought to have been. But it really only felt strange, so he instead imagined Darth Vader disappearing into the Force and promptly getting punched in the face by Fives and Jesse. It was a nice thought, made him smile to himself. Kind of morbid, too, probably, but he had accepted that his sense of humor was nothing  _ but  _ morbid. That happened to you when everyone you knew was dead.

The trees stretched over his head, against a starry sky full of fireworks, sparks flitting up between the branches and disappearing with the smoke, the music a little quieter here. Rex took deep breaths and let himself settle, the distance from the group and the quiet roar of the fire giving him space to think.

And space to remember. So he began to softly recite names under his breath, all the lost  _ vode  _ and friends from over the years, some of the Rebels who had died here on Endor.  _ Tup, Fives, Hardcase, Waxer, Vaughn, Jesse, Sev, Brii, Cody, Ahsoka, Kanan, Obi-Wan, Anakin. _ He was always afraid of forgetting, but he tried to list everyone from his fallen battalion who he could remember. “And everyone I can’t recall,” he added, when it took him too long to recall more names and numbers. _ “Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum.” _

“I haven’t heard that in a long time.”

Rex lunged to his feet and drew his blasters in one rough movement, spinning on his heel and firing blindly as his eyes tried to adjust to the dark.

A bright white saber blade lit up and sent his blaster shots sideways into the trees, and Rex froze, his shoulders hunching forward, the grip on his blasters slackening. Even despite the spots in front of his eyes from looking at the fire, he recognized the saber, and the light chuckle, the tall silhouette in front of him.

“You should know better than to sneak up on me,” he said, his mouth dry.

“If I wanted you dead, you would be. You’re getting soft,” answered the other, the warmly familiar voice full of amusement, and then Ahsoka Tano stepped fully into the bright light of the pyre, switching off her saber and clipping it to her belt, under voluminous white robes. There was a quiet, amused smile on her face, but she seemed a little wary of Rex’s reaction, as she stood still where she was and folded her arms across her chest. She was taller than she’d ever been, her markings sharp, but her face so familiar despite a few new lines.

Rex was beginning to think that if things like this kept happening to him, he was going to die of a heart attack before he ever reached old age. He holstered his blasters and took a deep breath, finding something almost peaceful in his chest to draw on - there was less anger than he’d expected. Maybe because too much time had been lost between them to waste on being angry, maybe he was just too relieved that she was here, maybe he trusted her that much. “Where have you been?” he asked quietly, his voice sounding raspy to his own ears.

Ahsoka took a step towards him, the firelight catching in her eyes a little. They looked lighter than he remembered. “It’s a long story. I’ve been travelling,” she said. “I haven’t been able to come back.” Her eyes darted past him, to the pyre. “I heard about a new Jedi.”

“Yeah.” Rex swallowed. “He’s something. Luke Skywalker. He’s… like his father.”

Ahsoka’s smile got soft, wistful, and her shoulders leaned forward. She looked like she didn’t know what to do, and it had been long enough, so Rex stepped forward impulsively and put his arms around her and tugged her close. Ahsoka practically melted, burying her face in his shoulder and putting her arms around his waist, so tight that he knew it had been a long time since she’d been around anyone she could trust. He leaned his own head against her montrals, trying to convince himself that she was  _ there. _ She felt familiar, the closest thing he’d ever had to  _ home  _ besides his brothers, and the  _ only  _ thing left since his brothers and the Jedi died.

“Why couldn’t you come back?” Rex whispered.

“I’ll tell you another time. It’s a long story,” she answered, muffled against his shoulder. “But I wanted to. I missed you.”

“Obi-Wan and I visited the graves.” Rex squeezed her shoulder, sighing. He felt her shudder, and decided to tell her about that another time. “Did you hear he died?”

“I knew.” Ahsoka stepped back, somewhat reluctantly, and tucked her hands in the sleeves of her robes. She looked tired, but there was a smile playing around her eyes, still - it was a hard night for feeling sad, or angry. Rex probably should have been angry at her. Maybe he would be, later.

But he was tired of grieving, and being angry, and really… She was back. She  _ wasn’t dead. _

“I’m going to kill you,” he said, a smile tugging at his cheeks. “Gods  _ damn  _ you, don’t you think I’ve had enough trouble without you disappearing on me again?”

Although he was joking, Ahsoka looked down as if ashamed. “I know. I was worried.”

“I’m okay.” Rex sighed, turned back towards the fire, still unable to quite lose his smile. “It’ll be okay, Ahsoka.”

Ahsoka came to stand beside him, her shoulder almost brushing his, also staring at the flames and the silhouette of Vader’s helmet. Rex couldn’t help but look at her, then, trying to get used to the idea of her being  _ here, _ alive. It was a good feeling.

“I knew,” she said, softly, “when he died. I could feel it.” She was still looking at Vader’s pyre. “Something- I heard him.”

Rex frowned and looked at her, taking her hand on impulse. “What do you mean?”

“He spoke to me. He said…” Ahsoka sighed. “He said he was sorry. That he was proud of me, and he missed me. It felt like- something changed, before he died. I think it must have been Luke.”

Rex looked at the fire, smiling a bit although he felt his throat closing up, whether with anger or grief he wasn’t sure, or some bewildering mix. That would explain why Luke would bring back the body, instead of leaving Vader behind - if Vader had helped him. If he’d known that Luke Skywalker was  _ his son. _

“I miss him,” he said, quietly. “And I’ve missed you. So much has changed - I was going to leave after this, you know, go retire. Get a house somewhere and settle down, hunt bounties and just see what it’s like, having a normal life.” He hesitated, his imagination painting a picture that he never would have been able to conjure before. “Maybe you should come with me.”

Ahsoka glanced at him, squeezed his hand. For a moment, her smile made her look like he remembered her: a short, skinny Jedi padawan with bright eyes who used to laugh at him and tell him he was stupid, the Commander who asked him what he thought he would do, when the war was over. Even if his old life was dead, she wasn’t anymore. That was comforting. And Rex thought maybe they both deserved to be something other than soldiers.

“I might,” she told him, warmly. “I’m tired of being alone, for now.” Her smile grew mischievous. “We can let the Rebellion manage things on their own from now on, and I think I know somewhere nice we can go.”

“Oh yeah?” Rex chuckled, turned away from the pyre, and tucked his hands in his pockets. The air was warm behind them, the night still full of music, and Rex imagined for a moment the idea of his family watching them: his brothers, the Jedi, Cody, Obi-Wan… maybe even Anakin. He imagined they felt as peaceful as he did.

He imagined all his remembrances being part of the Force, so that they’d be there waiting for him even when he, too, was gone. Maybe Obi-Wan was right. Maybe someday he’d see them again.

For now he was just happy not to be alone.


End file.
